The Bitter Taste of Liberty
by RikuRoyalty
Summary: There's a reason why James hates the British so reverently. One-Shot.


The first time Sarah saw him, she thought 'savage'.

This was not, however, due to his skin or his face, seeing as how she couldn't see either through his strange while hood. It wasn't even his height or impressive build that set her off. No, oh no, it was his presence that set her on edge. Here was a man, she knew, that would not hesitate to kill. (It was not the same feeling she got from certain soldiers, the ones she knew who tended to take things too far and enjoy what they do a little too much, but it still sent shivers down her spine.)

With this feeling came another. Similar to breathing a sigh of relief. Although he looked and felt dangerous, and most likely was, she also got a sense that he would not hurt anyone without good reason.

The next thought she had of him was 'gentle'. And though the concept of a 'gentle savage' was a little contradictory, it seemed to fit the strange man perfectly.

He had given them no name, but both Benjamin Franklin, Moses and even James seemed to know him. A half Mohawk, half-British man who was talking with Moses about accommodations.

"Thank you again for your troubles." Said the stranger, giving a slight bow to Moses in thanks. A gesture that seemed to throw the African-American off balance before he could respond.

"You're always welcome here, Connor."

A half-grin could be seen peaking out under the man's hood, as he turned to leave the shop.

Sarah and Henri, who were both hiding around the corner, looked back at Moses, who was now grabbing some blankets and a pillow. "W-who vas zat!?" exclaimed Henri to the darker-skinned man.

Both of them prepared for a long and drawn out explanation, like he usually gave when posed with a question. Instead, Moses looked back at them and sighed heavily, "No one you should worry about."

Surprised and more then a little curious, Sarah and Henri could only watch as Moses walked away with the blanket and pillow secured under his arm.

"He's right, you know." Green and brown eyes turned to look at James, who was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, "It's best to leave Connor alone." With that, the blonde-haired boy turned and disappeared into his room.

Sarah and Henri gapped at one another. James was telling them to leave the man be? It seemed so . . .out of character and all it did was increase their curiosity involving the strange man.

It took a few hours of wild theories between the two before they finally started discussing whether or not to investigate the man.

"But he could be a Redcoat!" Henri argued, obviously giving in to his childish desires of wanting to know something he shouldn't.

"Do you really think that James would be okay with allowing a British Soldier here?" Sarah, ever the sensible one, wasn't too sure about looking into this. In truth, it was really James reluctance that led her to hesitate. The boy had rarely displayed a disinterest, unless . . .he already knew who that person was. Which gave her confidence that they could leave the poor man alone.

"You're right, I wouldn't be." Both woman and boy turned around to see James with his traveling coat and hat on, a bag slung over his shoulder.

Henri looked up at James, confusion written all over his face, "Vhere are ve going?"

A grim look crossed through blue eyes before returning to normal, "No 'we', Henri. Just me this time."

Now Sarah was even more confused. It was rare for James to not take Henri and never had he not offered at least an explanation as to why. Henri himself seemed to visibly deflate in disappointment. The red-head now that it would be a good time to speak up, "So, where are you going then?"

James opened his mouth before hesitating, as if mulling over what he should say, "I'm . . .going to apprentice under Connor for awhile. I'll leaving tomorrow and probably be back in a few months." The young man looked over at the door behind him before returning his gaze to Sarah's, "Maybe a year. I'm going out to get some supplies."

Two sets of eyebrows rose as two pairs of eyes stared at the young man before them in slight shock. Henri was the one to speak up this time, "B-but, vhy?"

Sarah found her voice a few seconds behind Henri, "T-this does seem very sudden, James."

"It's not as sudden as you would think." Everyone looked over at Benjamin Franklin, who smiled at the group before coming up behind James, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "James here is simply following in the footsteps of his parents. It was his decision." There was an awkward silence as both woman and boy stared at their friend as if they had never seen him before, "Now, James, why don't you head out and get those supplies before it gets too dark? Sarah, Henri, how would you like to help me with dinner?"

~Six Months Later~

A raging thunderstorm blew unyieldingly outside, as Sarah stoked the fire. Henri was stirring the stew in his bowl with a forlorn expression on his face. He had been like this since James had left with Connor. Neither Moses nor Dr. Franklin provided much of an explanation and the blond-haired boy had only sent seven letters since leaving. Each one shorter then the last. None had provided any clue as to where he was or what he was doing.

Suddenly, the door to the shop blew open, wind and hail pushing its way inside, along with a hooded figure. The figure shut the door with such a force that the windows rattled.

"Can I help you?" Sarah asked, getting the stranger's attention. She was unable to see his face, as his hood obscured most of it, but he felt familiar.

"Yeah . . . ." The figure said in a tired, familiar voice, "Could I get some stew?"

There was a pause as Sarah tried to place where she met this stranger. Reaching forward, ignoring the voice in the back of her hand that reprimanded her on manners, she tugged the hood lose, revealing soaked blond hair and closed eyes. "James?"

Henri, having heard the conversation, bolted from his spot by the fire and grappled James around his waist. "You're back!"

Laughing breathlessly and shivering slightly, James hugged Henri back before gently pushing him away, "Not that I'm not glad to see you, Henri, but . . .stew?" As if realizing that James was in bad shape, the two led him to the fire, handing him Henri's half-eaten stew, refilling it to the brim before letting the blonde-haired man dig in.

"Um, James?" asked a hesitant Henri as James paused in his eating, "When did you get so . . .sturdy?"

Instead of answering him, James tousled the boy's hair and chuckled before returning to his meal. "Tell you later, Henri. For now, I need fresh cloths and a nap."

Sarah, letting her house-keeping skills come into play, went to grab a few of his old clothes and laying them out on a spare bed as James finished his meal.

"Thanks, Sarah." He said before shutting the door behind him to change.

Henri looked at the older girl he considered his sister before saying, "He's . . .different." Sarah nodded absentmindedly as she started cleaning up the bowl that James had been using. Gripping the side of it, she noted how sticky it was on the outside. With a furrowed brow, she pulled away her hand to find it covered in blood.


End file.
